Twin
by Mummyluvr
Summary: Dean had never wondered why Bobby had two twin beds in his guest room, mostly because it had never been an inconvenience before. One-shot. Wincest.


**Title:** Twin

**Summary:** Dean had never wondered why Bobby had two twin beds in his guest room, mostly because it had never been an inconvenience before. One-shot. Wincest.

**Rating:** T

**A/N:** Yeah, I know I said "never again" after Forbidden, but I guess I lied. This plot bunny attacked me and I couldn't fight it off with salt and holy water, so here it is. That being said…

**Warning:** Wincest. Oh, yeah. You don't like it, just turn away now. I won't blame you.

**Disclaimer:** Supernatural and its characters aren't mine. Please don't sue me.

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Twin

Dean sat on the edge of his bed. It had been his bed since the first time John had dropped him off at Bobby Singer's house. It was the bed closest to the bedroom door, through which he could see the cluttered hallway.

He looked over at the other bed in the room. It had never crossed his mind before, why Bobby had two twin beds in the guest room. He'd never thought to ask. Hell, he'd been so used to rooms with two beds that it hadn't seemed odd to Dean. Not until he'd started asking for one bed when checking into the many motels he and his brother frequented.

That was it, he decided. He'd never noticed that there were _two_ beds because he'd never needed _one_. It had never been an inconvenience. Not until now, until everything had changed.

In truth, he couldn't be mad at the witch- sure he'd shot her seven times in the head after finding out what she'd done, but he was over it now. The curse had been lifted, without any ill effects for either brother. There was only good in the aftermath of that hunt, only a new way of seeing things, of feeling things.

And now Dean was sitting on his bed in Bobby's house, watching out the door, waiting for Sam to come back. Bobby had called them two days before, saying that he'd found a way to save the older man's life. It had turned out to be a bust, but they had expected as much. They had been offered their old room, and chosen to stay. They just needed to be sneaky about it.

Sam walked into the room, smiling wide. He'd been the only one the witch had hit with her little whammy, but the effects had been far-reaching. The curse had been an interesting one- original, too. "Do or die," the witch had said before Dean had blasted her full of consecrated iron, and do they'd done. They'd had no choice. Sam had five minutes left before the ticking time bomb she'd left inside him went off, killing him.

They'd had no choice that night, no girls within five minutes of the room. Lately, though, they'd had lots of choices, and both felt that they'd made the right ones.

"Well?" Dean asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"He's out," Sam reported. "Sleeping like a baby."

Dean matched his brother's smile and slid off the bed to stand beside it. "Great." He waited until Sam had moved around to the opposite side of the other bed, nodded, and pushed. Sam matched his movements, cringing as the beds slammed into each other with a hollow bang.

They froze, hands on the beds, and turned toward the open door, listening for movement. The last thing they needed was Bobby finding out, facing the disgust that was bound to be written on his face, being disowned when they needed his help and support the most.

They knew they were in the wrong. They knew they were breaking the law. They knew they couldn't tell a soul.

They also knew that they both felt truly safe and loved for the first time. They were no longer alone, no longer cursed to trade any sense of normalcy for the ability to do the right thing. Finally, there was someone both boys could be completely honest with, someone who wouldn't judge the awful things that went along with the family business. So what if that someone just happened to be each other?

When Bobby didn't show, both smiles returned. Without a word, they fell onto what was now one bed, staring at each other, looking into eyes that understood every trial, every fear, every thing that had ever happened in both their lives.

They were on each other in an instant, hands reaching, mouths searching, bodies close, souls closer. Teeth clacked together as everything they'd held back since arriving at their friend's was unleashed in a fury.

Mouths opened in unison, tongues exploring territory that both knew so well already. Foreheads pressed together as both boys gasped for breath, oxygen and lust mixing in the air between them, coaxing them onward, begging them both for more.

They connected again, Dean's teeth scraping his brother's bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth, holding the younger man hostage, threatening to tear skin if their contact was broken.

Sam responded by spreading his hands across his brother's chest, moving them slowly down over the shirt that his fingers itched to remove. He fought back the urge, willing his hands lower until they'd settled over the zipper of the older man's bulging jeans.

Dean leaned toward him, leaned into the touch, into the inevitable as Sam started working the zipper, pulling it as slowly as possible, drawing out the suspense.

"Ahem."

Both boys stopped what they were doing and turned toward the door, Sam's lip pulling slowly out of Dean's teeth as they did so. His hand fell slack from Dean's zipper, hanging limply at his side as his eyes widened.

Bobby stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, shoulder leaning casually against the doorframe. "You know," he said, "I may be old, but I'm not deaf." He smiled, eyes sparkling, "and apparently not as blind as you two seem to think."

The brothers scooted away from each other, faces burning, eyes cast down at the bedspreads.

Bobby sighed. "Just try to keep it down tonight, all right?" He turned and walked away, closing the door behind him.

Sam and Dean looked up, their eyes meeting in wonder. "What was that?" Dean asked.

Sammy grinned. "I think he just gave us permission."

Dean matched the grin, glancing back at the closed door before scooting closer again. He grabbed his shirt, pulling it off, and turned to Sam. "Doesn't have to tell me twice."

They fell together onto the two beds that had become one, and, without fear of being discovered, of being rejected, of being judged, the two men followed suit.

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Ok. It's done. You can yell at me now.


End file.
